


Crutches

by ab2fsycho



Series: Hold My Tea and Watch This [5]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Arguing, Developing Relationship, I suck at tags, Jack is confused, Jack rolls his eyes at Pitch, M/M, Neither of them are good at listening, Pitch being Pitch, Pitch sucks at confrontation, as always, not right now but he will, not very direct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch is acting weird, and Jack is rather concerned. Until Pitch starts acting . . . well, very much like Pitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crutches

Having Pitch as a partner was not as terrifying as Jack had previously thought it would be. He visited him as often as was possible (whenever he didn’t have a road to ice or a meeting with the Guardians). Most of the time it was Pitch who found him first, however. Teleportation by shadows still elicited screams from Jack, and it seemed like Pitch had turned it into a game sometimes. Just how loud can he make Jack scream? More to the point, how long can Jack go without screaming? Jack always lost that particular game, one way or another.

But every now and then, Jack Frost had to sleep. Sometimes being the Guardian of Fun was just a little tiring. He wasn’t that picky about his sleeping areas. His only requirements were that the space needed to be cold and either high up or underground. However, Pitch had turned Jack’s resting time into yet another game.

“How many times are you going to kidnap me in my sleep?” Jack asked. This was at least the tenth time he’d gone to sleep on a tree limb and woken up in Pitch’s bed.

“Until you learn that it’s safer to sleep here than in random places across the globe,” Pitch answered from the shadows. He was doing that voice throwing trick again. Jack was convinced he did it specifically because it unnerved him. Jack rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. Of course Pitch did things because he knew they were unnerving. This was the Boogeyman after all. “Don’t complain. You seem to like my bed. You sleep longer in it.”

“Newsflash for you, Nightmare King,” Jack said as he sat up, “your lair isn’t always accessible when I’m tired.”

“You should have a more consistent sleep schedule anyway. Then you could plan this sort of thing and I won’t have to kidnap you.”

“I’ve tried. It doesn’t work that way. When I’m tired, I drop on the nearest comfortable branch or in a hole in the ground or something.” He pulled the covers aside, preparing to stand up. Before he did, he glanced about for his crook. “Have you hidden my staff again?”

“If I threaten you with a few nightmares, will you at least try to heed my requests?” Pitch emerged from the shadows just in front of Jack as he said this. Jack almost jumped at the close proximity of Pitch’s manifestation.

“Threats aren’t going to get you anything but a series of curses, Boogeyman.”

“Well, I do like the sound of your voice. Most of the time.” Pitch’s grin turned mischievous. Jack had started learning the difference between Pitch’s mischievous looks and his truly malicious ones rather quickly. He at least hoped this one was only mischievous. There was something mixed in with the mischief, though. Something that bothered Jack.

“Gee, thanks.” Jack stood up, wishing for the umpteenth time that he was just a little bit taller so that he could meet Pitch’s gaze evenly. “Now where’s my staff?”

“Oh, you don’t still need that thing when you’re with me, do you?” Pitch’s pouts were rather aggressive, Jack had realized. Usually those pouts followed with Jack getting jumped in some way, and Jack was still a little too tired to react as quickly as he would normally. He wasn’t too tired to notice how twitchy Pitch was, however.

“I can’t do my work without it.” He stared closer at the Boogeyman. Something was definitely amiss.

“Why don’t you call it what it is: a crutch?”

“Because if it breaks, I can fix it. Done it before, reme—.” Jack gasped as he found himself on his back with Pitch pinning him to the sheets. The Boogeyman was careful to avoid his wrists. He always was. Jack hated his arms being trapped in any way. But that didn’t mean Jack could escape him any easier. “Pitch—.”

“I remember that time very well, Jack,” Pitch growled into the Guardian’s ear. That was enough to make Jack forget about Pitch’s suspicious behavior.

“Pitch, what are—?” Jack let out a groan as the Nightmare King brought one of his knees to rest between the winter spirit’s legs. “What are you doing?”

“I remember being rather infuriated with you for letting me down.” His growl was quieter, but Jack was much more aware of the hot breath against his sensitive skin.

“Are you listening to me?” Pitch forced yet another groan from Jack by sliding his warm hands under the boy’s shirt. “No, you’re not.”

“I also remember being dragged away by my own creations.” Chills ran down Jack’s spine as the voice began to sound malevolent.

“And who exactly helped you get them ba—?” The word turned into a scream as Pitch ran sharpened claws over one of Jack’s pectorals. Jack’s hands seized Pitch’s shoulders then. “Ow!” It was then that Jack felt Pitch smile against his neck. He didn’t have to look to see that this was one of Pitch’s ambiguous smiles, somewhere between mischievous and threatening. Jack had done it this time.

“Your abilities are anything but forgettable, but you can imagine how unpleasant those memories are for me.”

Jack’s whole body shook as one of Pitch’s hands swept from beneath his shirt and around his throat. Jack could still breathe, fortunately. The hand wasn’t squeezing. He was still in the process of getting used to Pitch’s antics, and this was something he had not yet encountered. “Shit!” he managed to choke out, grabbing Pitch’s arm. The Nightmare King’s devilish face was inches from his, now. Jack did not like the look Pitch was giving him, not one bit. He’d been right after all. He was going to die.

“You’re scared, aren’t you Jack,” Pitch declared. He knew it was a declaration and not a question. Pitch would know he was afraid without even trying.

“No.” Pitch’s enhanced knowledge of Jack’s fears didn’t stop him from denying it, though.

“You are a little liar. I can smell your fear.”

“What the hell is wrong with—?” Jack made a short gasp when Pitch tightened his grip on the boy’s throat just the slightest bit. Without thinking, he slammed his fist against Pitch’s side. When the Boogeyman flinched and hissed more than Jack had anticipated, he knew what was wrong. “Pitch, you’re injured!”

“No shit,” the Nightmare King growled, releasing Jack and sliding off of him.

“God, you do cuss.” Jack felt like that surprised him more than was necessary. When Pitch was on his back, Jack moved quickly. Before the Boogeyman could protest, the winter spirit had his robe pulled to the side and was inspecting a long gash that stretched down and across his ribs to his back. “What the hell, Pitch?”

“The rabbit sharpened his boomerangs specifically for me. I just know it.” Pitch’s devilish expression was gone and now he just looked . . . upset? What was that face?

“You attacked him even when I told you not to?!” Jack was angry now.

“He punched my face!” Pitch wasn’t even looking at him when he snarled that out through sharp teeth.

“My face, you mean!”

“Let’s agree that it belongs to both of us—.”

“Pitch, regardless of whose face is in question, you cannot attack everyone who punches me in the cheek for making a decision they think is—.”

“What? Stupid?! This is stupid now?!”

“Oh my God, please just stop. You know I don’t think this is stupid.” Jack fought to calm down, looking down at Pitch. The Nightmare King was stiff as a board, and his face was twisted in a grimace. His lips were so tightly pursed that his mouth was little more than a thin line. If Jack stared long enough at the twitchy Boogeyman, he’d probably start to laugh. But Pitch was injured, and Jack was still rather annoyed. “Why did you attack me if you were injured?” Before Pitch could speak, Jack interrupted with, “Let me guess: fear helps you heal.”

“Not necessarily—.”

“It’s a numbing agent, then.”

“You know entirely too much.”

Jack sighed, rubbing his forehead until the tips of his fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt movement on the bed, and managed to shove Pitch back down before onto the sheets. “Don’t move. Now where is my staff?”

“Why?”

“Because ice is a better numbing agent, you frickin’ lunatic. You’re the one with a crutch!”

Jack hadn’t thought Pitch’s lips could purse any tighter, but they did. He almost cracked a smile. Almost. “It’s under the bed.” Jack slid off the bed, pointing a finger at Pitch indicating that if he moved he would be in more trouble. After retrieving the crook, he felt his energy strengthen. He sat down next to Pitch on the bed, then traced a finger over Pitch’s gash. The Nightmare King hissed again, but it soon turned into a relieved moan as ice formed over the cut and covered the surrounding area. Jack set his staff aside, checking what he’d done for Pitch’s wound. While inspecting, he heard Pitch mutter, “Feels much better . . . .”

“I would think so.” Jack sighed again, glimpsing the contentment on Pitch’s face. He looked down at his hands. “You know the quickest way to scare me anyway. Why didn’t you use that?”

“It’s no fun just grabbing your forearms and holding you down. Especially when you don’t like it. Getting someone scared requires foreplay, just like—.”

“Okay, I got that. Why’d you use the past to get to me this time? Did the kangaroo say something to you?”

Pitch grumbled a series of inaudible sentences before answering with, “He may have reminded me of a few events that determined your Guardianship.”

Honesty. That was a step. “So you took your frustrations with my friends out on me. That’s cool I guess. Maybe next time you piss me off, I ought to disintegrate one of your Nightmares.”

“You wouldn’t—.”

“Oh, but according to you, I would.” Pitch and Jack locked eyes, and Jack could just barely catch the sadness in Pitch’s gaze. It was there and gone again in a flash, though. “You and I can’t function like this. We can’t hide wounds from each other and vow to get back at everyone for hurting one another.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Pitch, don’t attack my friends. Only a little while ago, you and I were mortal enemies. Can you please understand why they’d be upset with me for . . . you know?” He looked down at his hands again to avoid Pitch’s gaze.

There was quiet for a while. Jack was incredibly uncomfortable, and still couldn’t look at Pitch. When a warm hand touched his cheek, Jack pressed his face further into it the palm. “You still talk like such a virgin.”

“I do not.” Jack could feel himself blush. He dared to look at Pitch’s face, and the Boogeyman’s sly grin made Jack smile in return. “I swear I thought I was gonna get murdered.”

“I told you, I have to keep you around. You know too much.”

“You cut open my chest. You had your hand around my throat.”

“It wasn’t the first time I grabbed your throat, or scratched you for that matter. I didn’t draw blood. Well, not that much. And I remember you liked these things the last time.” Pitch’s hand slid down Jack’s face to his throat. Jack forced himself to relax as the Nightmare King’s thumb stroked his Adam’s apple, his nails digging into the back of the Guardian’s neck. “You gorgeous boy.”

“Are you going to compliment me and remind me of how adorable you think I am every time we argue?”

“If it works, then yes.” Pitch pulled Jack by the throat, making the winter spirit gasp. Jack found himself straddling Pitch.

“Your cut—.”

“Feels amazing. The only thing that would make it better would be and equally long gash in that rab—.”

“Did you hear a word I said earlier? No. None of that. And if you don’t listen, I’ll be forced to freeze you in place.”

“Are you sure you’re the Guardian of Fun? Because right now, you’re no fun at all.” Pitch pouted, only this time Jack had to bite his finger to stop from laughing at the look the Boogeyman was giving him. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“I don’t like that face you’re making.” Pitch’s scowl deepened.

“I’m just smiling.” Jack struggled to keep the laughter suppressed. 

“That is not a smile. That is a bastardization of a smile. You are mocking me, Jack Frost.” The Nightmare King’s body was getting stiff again. “I banish that face. It is not allowed in my lair again.”

“Shut up.” Jack smothered Pitch with a kiss before that scowl overwhelmed him. After a few moments, Jack could feel Pitch’s smile against his lips, too. He pulled away briefly, letting their breath mingle for a moment. “If I send a small-scale blizzard through Bunny’s Warren, will that make you happy?” Jack whispered.

“You do care for me.” Jack chuckled against Pitch’s lips as he found himself being pulled in for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should apologize for this fic. I pretty much sat down with one Earl Grey and one Irish Breakfast tea and spit this thing out. I finally got to use a few things that I've been thinking about using, but if all of this sounds repetitive, my apologies. Pumping things out this fast usually either ends really well or very poorly.
> 
> Anywho, I'm at a loss for what happens next. I feel like it's too soon to enact my "plans." So if any of you guys want to message me some ideas, feel free. The easiest way to do that is to go to my tumblr account twofacedpsycho.tumblr.com. Or you could just leave a comment. For those of you who've stuck with me so far, I love you.


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